Chosen Child

by Linda Huber

  Tears welled up and Ella blinked determinedly. Liz would be here soon with information about how – and if – she could proceed as a single adopter. It was important to make a good impression in the face of adversity, but oh, this was tough. She was back to making a good impression on her adoption worker. Back to assessment and back to panel, too – if she was lucky. If she wasn’t it would be the end for her and Soraya. The doorbell rang, and Ella stuck her chin out. This was it, the new beginning. Or maybe the end.

  ‘Are you okay? And how’s Rick?’ Liz came in and sat in her usual place.

  ‘I’m fine. Rick’s still unconscious and they’re not happy with him. His sister’s on her way. I’ll be starting divorce proceedings tomorrow no matter what, though. Liz, do I have any chance of getting Soraya?’

  Ella held her breath. The hope was unbearable, but how very much worse it would be to have Liz dash it forever.

  ‘You do, but it won’t be a quick fix. You’ll need to get your living situation regulated, including your income, and then we’ll be back at the assessment leading to home study stage. Realistically, we’re looking at six months at least. And no guarantees. I’m not even sure you’ll be able to visit her until your application’s gone through. The circumstances are – unusual, to say the least. We’ll sort that out next week.’

  Ella stared at her hands on the table. What were six months, after all, if she had her girl back at the end of them? A shitty fucking horrible long time, that was what.

  ‘Ella, I called Mel today and as an exception we’re going there this afternoon. We need to make sure Soraya understands what’s going on. You’ll be able to make your goodbyes properly. Yesterday was chaotic.’

  For a moment Ella couldn’t speak. Oh, what a painful kind of joy this was. She was to be allowed to say goodbye properly. With no guarantees. But at least there would be a goodbye before she left her girl to be cared for by others.

  Ella ran upstairs and rummaged in her jewellery box. Here it was; the butterfly brooch she’d worn as a little girl. A delicate gold base, and vivid turquoise enamel. She would give it to Soraya whether she was allowed to or not.

  ‘For me? Is it gold?’

  They were upstairs in Soraya’s bedroom. It was hers alone now as her foster-sister had been adopted, and Ella was glad to see Soraya’s shells safely spread out on the chest of drawers.

  She fastened the brooch on the little girl’s sweatshirt. ‘Yes. It’s on loan. We’ll hope very, very hard that you can come to a new forever home with me, maybe next springtime. Then we’ll get you one of your own and you can give me this one back.’

  ‘And if I can’t come?’

  ‘Then you have a forever butterfly to remind you I love you.’

  Soraya nodded slowly, fingering the brooch. ‘Honest truth?’

  ‘Honest truth.’

  ‘Are you ready up there?’ Liz’s voice called from downstairs.

  Ella took Soraya’s hand. She’d been allowed exactly five minutes.

  They were crossing the upstairs landing when Soraya pulled her arm. ‘You know when I found that gold chain at Amanda’s? She did say it was her husband’s. But it wasn’t, was it?’

  ‘No,’ said Ella. But whatever that meant, it was completely unimportant today. She led Soraya downstairs and hugged her hard, inhaling deeply, not trusting herself to say more. And she got into Liz’s car and waved as they drove off, and as soon as they turned the corner she howled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two years later

  The house phone rang out, and Ella cursed, the mud pack spread over half her face. How to ruin an expensive beauty treatment. Heck, no, she would finish her face pack first. It wouldn’t be anything important on that phone, and she could call back if need be.

  Twenty minutes later and suitably rejuvenated, she lifted the phone and took it to the window seat. As always, the view took her breath away. The vastness of the Atlantic was spread before her eyes, the rugged Cornish coastline contrasting starkly with the blue-green-white of the ocean. Walking up and down four flights of stairs every time she went in and out was worth it for this view.

  The missed call was a strange number… or was it? On an impulse Ella booted up the laptop and checked the area code. Oh. Shetland. Nobody except Rick’s sister would be calling her from Shetland. Heaviness descended into Ella’s stomach as she pressed connect.

  ‘Oh, Ella, thank you for calling back. How are you?’

  Ella closed her eyes. Did they really need to exchange pleasantries? But it was easier to play along. ‘Fine, thanks. You?’

  ‘Pete and I are fine, but I thought you should know Rick’s not doing so well. He had a chest infection last week and now his kidneys… He’s not going to make it, Ella.’

  Ella stared at the sea far below. What was she supposed to say – did she even care what happened to Rick? Yes, in a way she did, but it wasn’t the kind of caring that made her feel good. It had been a relief when Marianne and Pete took Rick to a nursing home in far-away Shetland. He had never recovered consciousness and in a terrible way Ella was glad.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said at last. ‘Was there anything you needed me to do?’ Hopefully that sounded polite enough while telling Marianne that she didn’t want to be involved.

  ‘No, no. I realise you won’t come all this way to the funeral. Will I phone you when… or would you prefer a card?’

  Ella balked at the thought of an ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ phone call. But none of this was Marianne’s fault. ‘Give me a call,’ she said slowly. ‘Then I’ll let the police know. The case is still open although they’ve never found out anything more. Take care, Marianne.’

  She replaced the handset and wiped her face on her sleeve. The case would most likely be closed when Rick died. Uncertainty would reign forever; what a horrible end to the worst time of her life. But now she should put on her glad rags.

  She was spraying perfume behind her ears when she heard a key in the flat door.

  ‘We bought a cake! Double choc with raspberry ripple cream, and ice cream to go with it! And I’ve got a present for you!’

  Soraya hefted a large plastic bag onto the kitchen table, beaming. And oh, how bittersweet this was. Ella knew she couldn’t share the news of Rick, not today. She hugged Soraya hard and turned to smile at Owen, who was unpacking not only ice cream but also champagne.

  He stuck the bottle into the cooler and winked at her. ‘One year today, huh?’

  ‘I can’t believe I’ve had a beautiful daughter for a whole year. The best year ever.’ Ella opened the cake box while Soraya went for plates.

  ‘Can we put a candle on it, Mummy?’

  Owen poured champagne into two glasses and grape and elder into a third. His eyes met hers, and Ella knew he’d seen the shadow behind the joy. But this was Soraya’s day; the shadow would keep. She turned to the little girl.

  ‘So what’s this present? Shouldn’t you be getting the presents?’

  Soraya jumped up and down. ‘It sort of is for me too. Owen told me you had a secret for me, and we made it into a better one for you.’ She handed over a small velvet box.

  Wondering, Ella looked from Owen to Soraya to the little box. She had arranged to have a butterfly brooch made for Soraya, with her name on the back. The child was still wearing Ella’s brooch.

  ‘We got the new one made for you instead,’ said Soraya, and Ella lifted the delicate blue enamel butterfly and examined it. Ella and Soraya was engraved on the back, and the date of the adoption. Ella hugged Soraya to her chest, closing her eyes to keep the tears in. To think she could have lost this treasure.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She could never say thank you enough for her girl.

  ‘I wanted to keep your old one, you see,’ said Soraya, pulling back and staring into Ella’s face. ‘Because it reminds me you love me. Can we cut the cake now?’

  Amanda fought her way up Buchanan Street, Glasgow wind and rain making it almost impossible to control her umbr
ella. Working at weekends was the downside to her job in a city centre stationery shop. On the other hand, it gave her the odd day off during the week, and Suze was always happy to babysit. Amanda reached the underground station and descended thankfully out of the rain.

  The orange train rattled its way round to Hillhead, where Amanda got off. The rain had stopped, and she hurried past red tenements in Highburgh Road. This was the best part of the day, going home to her kids. She would never forget how nearly she had lost them; thinking about it still made her shiver. Gareth and the old life were gone, but she still had her children.

  What she no longer had was confidence that she was safe. If Rick ever woke up... There was no way to know what was happening with him. She’d called Ella once, a few weeks after Rick’s operation, to be told he was still unconscious and Soraya was still in foster care, and something in the other woman’s voice had prevented Amanda ever phoning again.

  Life here was good, but the black uncertainty hanging over her head was always there, ready to pounce, and sometimes it stalked her at night, too. You heard all the time about people who were in a coma for years, and then they woke up and started talking. If Rick did that, the police would investigate.

  Amanda shook her umbrella before going inside. Any time at all, there could be a knock at the door and a policeman would be standing there, waiting to take her away. The fear was a permanent weight in her middle.

  ‘Mum! Nana’s making spaghetti for tea!’

  Amanda ruffled Jaden’s hair, smiling wryly at the Glasgow accent. But this was a good place to bring up your kids.

  ‘Where’s my Jasmin?’ she called.

  Jasi always hid when she arrived; it was their special game. Amanda would search and search and eventually find her daughter, in the same place every time, behind the living room curtains.

  ‘Where’s Jasi? Not in the kitchen… and not behind the sofa… and – oh! Yes… there she is!’

  Amanda seized the child to shrieks of laughter and held her close. And how thankful she was to be able to hold her daughter, this amazing wriggling creature with the shock of dark hair, and grey eyes.

  Just like her daddy’s.

  The End

  Other books by this author

  If you enjoyed Chosen Child, you might be interested to read Linda Huber’s other novels:

  The Paradise Trees

  He had found exactly the right spot in the woods. A little clearing, green and dim, encircled by tall trees. A magical, mystery place. He would bring his lovely Helen here… This time, it was going to be perfect.

  When Alicia Bryson returns to her estranged father’s home in a tiny Yorkshire village, she feels burdened by his illness. Her hometown brings back memories of a miserable and violent childhood, and Alicia worries that her young daughter Jenny’s summer will be filled with a similar sense of unhappiness.

  The town is exactly as she remembered it, the people, the buildings, even the woods. But Alicia’s arrival has not gone unnoticed.

  Someone is watching her every move. Someone who has a plan of his own. Someone who will not stop until the people he loves most can rest together, in Paradise.

  The Cold Cold Sea

  They stared at each other, and Maggie felt the tightness in her middle expand as it shifted, burning its way up… Painful sobs rose in her throat as Colin, his face expressionless now, reached for his mobile and dialled 999.

  When three-year-old Olivia disappears, her parents are overwhelmed with grief. Weeks go by and Olivia’s mother refuses to leave the cottage, staring out at the turbulent sea and praying it didn’t claim her precious daughter’s life.

  Not far away, another mother watches proudly as her daughter starts school. Jennifer has loved Hailey for five years, but the child is suddenly moody and difficult, and there’s a niggling worry that Jennifer cannot shake off. As she struggles to maintain control there are gaps in her story that even she can’t explain.

  Time is running out for Maggie at the cottage, and also for Jennifer and Hailey. No-one can underestimate a mother’s love for her child, and no-one can predict the lengths one will go to, to protect her family.

  The Attic Room

  A father’s secret. A mother’s lie. A family mystery.

  An unexpected phone call – and Nina’s life takes a disturbing twist. Who is John Moore? And how does he know her name?

  Nina travels south to see the house she inherited, but sinister letters arrive and she finds herself in the middle of a police investigation. With her identity called into question, Nina uncovers a shocking crime. But what, exactly, happened in the attic room, all those years ago? The answer could lie close to home.

  The arrival of her ten-year-old daughter compounds Nina’s problems, but her tormentor strikes before she can react. Searching for the truth about the Moore family puts both Nina and her child into grave danger.